


Checkmate

by Snailsway



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailsway/pseuds/Snailsway
Summary: On a sunny winter day, out of nowhere, and without warning, Brett found himself trapped between a wall and Eddy’s body, with his wrists pinned above his head.
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 23
Kudos: 204





	Checkmate

On a sunny winter day, out of nowhere, and without warning, Brett found himself trapped between a wall and Eddy’s body, with his wrists pinned above his head.

_Blink if you need help._

Brett blinked in rapid succession. If this had been a video, their editor would have added cute cartoon sound effects. But the cameras were off.

Eddy laughed low in his throat.

“What are you doing? It doesn’t work like that,” he whispered, amused.

Brett tried to turn his face away, but didn’t make it in time. Eddy’s kiss landed on the tip of his nose, soft as a feather.

*

It was the quarantine, maybe. Everyone lost their minds in quarantine, at least a little bit, and there was no reason to think they’d be exceptions. And quarantine was especially difficult to endure when your friend could eat the last tim tam in the house while you had to slap your face.

“I’ll do it to the rhythm of the Bartok,” he said offhandedly.

It was just something to do, to entertain the fans, but it somehow spurred Eddy to laugh until he was on the ground wheezing.

“It’s not _that_ funny,” said Brett, though he was also grinning at this point. He crouched down beside Eddy and prodded him in the ribs, eliciting a short, high screech.

  
After Eddy recovered, he reached up and pinched Brett lightly on one cheek. “It’s only funny because it’s you. Because you’re so cute.” There was a tenderness in his gaze as he said this, which Brett just missed as he rolled his eyes and told Eddy half-heartedly to shut up.

*

Things had escalated after that, though Brett didn’t initially notice.

Take lofi, for example.

Logically, it would have made more sense for Shaun to sit between them, but Eddy had claimed the middle seat first, so Brett had no choice but to press close and strain to look over him to see Shaun’s instructions. At one point, he had propped his chin on Eddy’s shoulder to see Shaun’s screen, when Eddy suddenly turned to flash him a grin. For a few moments, their eyes locked and a strange tension quivered in the air. There was a look in Eddy’s eyes that Brett found both indecipherable and intimidating.

Then Eddy’s fringe tickled Brett’s nose and he had to turn away to sneeze.

What was really bizarre, though, was when Eddy took Shaun’s seat to record his violin solo and Shaun sat in the middle. Instinctively and without realizing it himself, Brett had scooted away from Shaun -- even though they were friends -- until he was at the edge of his chair.

“Dude, you’re about to fall off,” Eddy whispered to him with an exasperated chuckle after he and Shaun switched back. He subtly placed his hand on Brett’s waist and tugged him gently back to the center of his chair.

Maybe that should have felt weird, but it didn’t. Brett let himself be tugged, just as he let Eddy feed him a chip in the middle of recording.

*

When Eddy slapped him on the butt, that did feel kind of weird and he had let out a small yelp, but upon reflection, he had decided to let it go. After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same to Eddy before. It's just something bros did, he concluded. 

That’s probably where he went wrong. He probably should have drawn the line there.

*

“Ow,” Brett said, after Eddy nipped him lightly on the lips. He attempted to wrench himself free from Eddy’s grasp, but Eddy continued holding him in place. When had he gotten so strong? Brett suddenly regretted turning down his invites to work out together. Too late now. 

“You’re distracted,” Eddy said with a mild pout.

“No, I—” But his protests were swallowed up by the torrent of kisses Eddy pressed on his lips. Eddy was gentle, but insistent and possessive, as if he sought to capture Brett’s very essence through his kisses.

Their small recording room was filled with Brett’s small gasps for breath that sounded embarrassingly erotic, even to Brett’s own ears. He blushed as he felt Eddy’s lips curve into a smile against his own.

*

As an only child, and a son at that, Brett had always gotten whatever he wanted, whether that be the twenty thousand dollar violin at age thirteen, or the Mercedes Benz at age sixteen or however much his parents ended up tanking into his music education.

In exchange, he carried all the hopes and dreams of the family. A fair trade, Brett had always thought carelessly. He wasn’t one to cave under pressure. Beneath the soft looks and the nerdy glasses was a devil-may-care attitude. Brett Yang was someone who could forge his own path without any help.

Eddy was different. Eddy was a little crybaby he’d accidentally picked up at maths tutoring and who followed him around ever since like a lost duckling. Eddy was people-shy and camera-shy, couldn’t string two words together without blushing, and was too introspective for his own good. Eddy was the one who would stare at the camera wordlessly in panic as Brett did the intro and outro and everything in-between.

“You okay, man?” Brett would ask, and Eddy would respond with a long, self-deprecating sigh. “I’ll work on it,” he would say, near-tears.

When had that changed?

The last five years had passed like a blur, but somewhere along the way, something had shifted, and Eddy, who had always felt and acted like a snotty little brother, had suddenly caught up with him. Surpassed him, even.

At an unidentifiable time stamp, Eddy had grown tall and toned and had gained a quiet confidence that projected through their videos. He could speak eloquently when Brett was at a loss for words; he could liven up the atmosphere with guests when Brett was feeling antisocial; he could untangle the dirty strings from Amazon when Brett didn’t want to touch them . . .

And Brett, who had always looked after himself with iron self-discipline, found himself relaxing in the backseat. It wasn’t so bad, Brett thought, to have someone else take the wheel.

*

By the time Brett realized that he had let Eddy get away with too much, he had already lost control of the situation.

“Opera, opera, opera!” Eddy yelled as he grabbed Brett’s arm. Brett rolled his eyes at his dramatic reenactment of Britain’s Got Talent and yanked himself free, only to have Eddy latch on again two seconds later. He laughed along this time, if only to conceal his slight panic at how roughly Eddy had grabbed him, and how easily Eddy was able circled his arm with just one hand. 

He’s just fooling around, Brett told himself. He felt slightly on edge though, and when Eddy leaned over in distress after the guy threw his piano stool, he tensed and tilted away so that Eddy’s face wouldn’t actually land on his shoulder. When Eddy didn't say anything, he figured things were fine. 

He was wrong. After they turned off the camera and as Brett was about to walk out of the room for water, Eddy remarked suddenly, “You leaned away from me.” His voice was suffused with all the disappointment of a small puppy who hadn't been pet as much as he'd liked. 

“Oh, stop it,” Brett said with a nervous scoff. Nervous, because Eddy had stalked close and was looking down at him with palpable displeasure. Brett caught a whiff of danger in the air and inched backwards. “I know you’re into fan service, but we can’t get too carried away . . .”

“Fan service?” Eddy repeated with a cold smile as he backed Brett against the wall. “Is that what we’re calling this?”

*

Brett finally gave in and relaxed against Eddy. Perhaps sensing that, Eddy released his wrists to hold him by the waist instead. Brett, who felt slightly faint, let Eddy pull him closer until he was pressed snugly against Eddy’s hard body. His arms fell lightly around Eddy’s neck and he stood on tiptoe to lean into the feverish kiss they shared. Well, if he couldn't fight it, he might as well enjoy it . . . 

Brett’s brows wrinkled briefly when Eddy skillfully parted his lips with his tongue—how many people had he kissed to be able to—then lost all ability to think as Eddy’s tongue infiltrated his mouth. He felt as if Eddy was stealing away his thoughts, his breath, everything.

When Eddy finally pulled away, Brett stared at him with glassy eyes, dazed. He vaguely processed the fact that Eddy was smirking at him in an annoying kind of way, like a cat who’d finally gotten the cream.

“It’s not fan service, silly,” Eddy whispered in his ear.

And after that, it seemed more or less inevitable that Eddy would steer him into bed.

*

When Brett awakened, he was sore all over and ached in places that he didn’t want to think about, and Eddy was hugging him from behind as if he were a large stuffed animal.

“How are you feeling,” Eddy asked, pressing a kiss to the mole at the nape of his neck. Brett rolled his eyes and didn't bother answering. 

Nonplussed, Eddy blew lightly at his ears and chuckled gleefully when Brett trembled. He remarked absently, “You know how the Chinese fans asked whose last name we’d take if we got married? I’m fine with taking yours, you know.”

Brett groaned in misery. “Stop it. You’re crazy.”

Eddy laughed. “Crazy~for~you!” he said in a sing-song voice. 

“Ugh, gross—”

The rest of Brett’s sentence was lost as Eddy leaned over to kiss him again. In hazy wintry sunlight, Eddy's kisses descended like a flurry of soft snowflakes. Brett thought to himself that maybe this, too, was something he could get used to. 

**Author's Note:**

> Their recent vids are too cute and were making me fangirl scream so I had to write something to let it out hahaha. Mostly nonsense and just for fun. Thanks for reading! xoxo


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